Sleepwalker Film Review: Out on VOD January 9, 2026

Sleepwalker, written and directed by Brandon Auman, stages a familiar horror proposition with immediate formal confidence: trauma rendered as an invasive presence, and memory treated less as recollection than as an antagonistic force that keeps reasserting itself in the present. The film’s most compelling passage arrives right away, dropping us into a dream-space with enough velocity to have the viewer’s pulse up within the first minute.

That early emotion becomes the film’s central benchmark. Once Sleepwalker settles into more stable narrative rhythms, it increasingly relies on established genre grammar to keep the viewer activated, and the distance between the opening’s subjective shock and the later, more procedural cues can blunt its cumulative force. Even so, the film often demonstrates visual intelligence that partially compensates for that drift – especially when the camera begins to behave like an unwelcome presence rather than a neutral observer.

What is Sleepwalker About?

Sleepwalker follows Sarah Pangborn (Hayden Panettiere), an accomplished artist living in the wake of her daughter’s death in a car accident – an event that also left her abusive husband in a coma.

She’s surrounded by a recognizably seasoned supporting cast: Justin Chatwin as her husband, Michael, Beverly D’Angelo as her mother, Gloria, and Mischa Barton as her sister-in-law, Joelle.

The film treats grief as an active condition rather than a static background detail – something that can reorganize perception, distort the contours of the everyday, and reconfigure a home and its relationships around unresolved pain.

Sarah’s Art as a Secondary Language

The most personally resonant thread in Sleepwalker is Sarah’s artwork – dark, depressive pieces that don’t read as set decoration so much as an extension of her mind. I found myself thinking of Francis Bacon, one of my favourite artists (my partner doesn’t allow me to hang any of his pieces too prominently in our home), and the film actually ended up acknowledging this thematic connection, which I appreciate.

There is also a practical, material artistry worth noting. Sleepwalker incorporates work by the actual artist R.F. Pangborn, alongside pieces from director Brandon Auman and others. While I haven’t had an opportunity to speak with Auman, it is difficult not to register the intentionality of R.F. sharing a surname with Sarah, our protagonist.

Marcus Friedlander’s Camera as an Uninvited Witness

The film’s strongest sustained craft element is the cinematography from Marcus Friedlander. The camera frequently glides through space with a slow, searching drift – voyeuristic in its curiosity, occasionally bordering on omniscient in how it seems to know where to be before the characters do. It’s a mode horror has used for decades, but Friedlander applies it cleanly, and the approach suits a story where the threat feels less like a creature entering frame and more like a presence already in the room.

That floating perspective also reinforces the film’s interest in subjectivity. We are not simply watching Sarah; we are positioned near her experience, then slightly outside it, then above it, as if the film is toggling between alignment and observation. When the characters and motivations are fully articulated, that shifting viewpoint can deepen the psychology. When the writing thins out, the camera ends up doing more of the heavy lifting than it should have to.

Sleepwalker’s Limitations

Sleepwalker contains sequences that play cleanly in the moment, but it does not always sustain pressure in a way that escalates or accumulates. It leans on familiar cues – flickering lights, scare chords, jump scares, and easy metaphors like “blood on your hands” – yet it rarely allows the viewer enough space to decompress and recalibrate. Without that breath, tension starts to flatten into repetition.

The issue is compounded when the character work feels thin. With fewer emotional consequences to activate, the film’s scares are asked to do narrative and psychological work that is usually carried by more robust interpersonal dynamics. The result is a film that can be effective on a beat-to-beat basis, but that sometimes struggles to convert those beats into lasting impact.

How to Watch Sleepwalker

Sleepwalker is distributed in Canada by Vortex Media and in the United States by Brainstorm Media, and it plays best in the context it seems made for: a late-night VOD watch with the lights off. The film’s big swings don’t always land, and its reliance on familiar horror cues can blunt the sharper edge established in the opening.

Still, Friedlander’s camera gives the film a persistent sense of presence, and Sarah’s art – both as a narrative element and as an aesthetic environment – adds texture that many similar thrillers simply don’t have. If you can tolerate predictability in exchange for a few genuinely effective sequences and a strong visual sensibility, Sleepwalker earns its place as a serviceable, occasionally striking midnight scare.

See where you can watch Sleepwalker here.

Is Sleepwalker Worth Watching?

Answer: If you enjoy late-night VOD horror with strong opening momentum and attentive cinematography, Sleepwalker is worth a look. Its tension can flatten as it leans on familiar cues, but the camera’s persistent sense of presence and the protagonist’s art add texture that often elevates it.